


Green Christmas

by Otterly



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:00:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otterly/pseuds/Otterly
Summary: A sad reindeer cheating the clock on an after hours restaurant shift finds a polar bear at the front door, asking for shelter.





	Green Christmas

Music’s playing from the kitchens. Nothing was allowed during shift but ever since the fourth hour of overtime started, Blue’s decided that his bosses are nowhere near the restaurant, and probably don’t care anyway. They’re probably off at some holiday party having the time of their lives, minds so far away from work that they’d have trouble remembering they had jobs at all.

Blue’s got the blues. He sighs, stretching out within the cushions of the booth he’s taken for a bed. If he had fifty dollars for every time one of his co-worker’s have made that joke he’d be the richest reindeer in all of Zootopia. Maybe the world.

His phone vibrates, and he nearly knocks one of his antlers off crashing with the underside of the table as he sits up. Why is his phone—

Oh. It’s just Mom. About three guesses enter his mind, and if he had anyone here to bet with he’d bet all his money that it was one of them. First: A text asking him to call. Second: A text asking him where he is. Third: A text asking him to come home to visit. She’ll pay for his ticket. First class. He’s been living in “squalor” for so long that he’s forgotten just who and where he came from.

He checks the message and surprise, surprise, it’s the first guess.

She’s been telling him to call for a while now; he never does, but she’s persistent. Sometimes he fantasizes about it. He imagines what he’d say about the fact that he’s a simple busser working at a restaurant that hired him not on his merit but because his uncle owned the place. He drafts incredible defences and retorts about his messy life, and then his imaginary mother accepts him for who she is.

And then they have a pleasant conversation, and then she asks him, where are your friends? Can I see pictures of them? Can you introduce me?

It shakes him enough so that he never calls.

One thing that they always told him about Zootopia was that there were so many mammals. They never mentioned that none of them were interested in what you had to say.

Though that isn’t fair. His own loneliness is his fault, mostly. There are just too many things going on at once and he always preferred to be focused on one. So he right now he’s focussing on what’s important. Right now, that’s money. His own money. Not money loaned to him by his mother or his father but money earned out of his own hard work.

But it’s still not enough and he’s actually very lonely.

A knock at the door turns him towards the window, where he sees a polar bear. Young, built correctly, lacking the standard tracksuit but the lump on his hip, underneath his wet sweatpants, gives his occupation away. Criminals don’t lurk every corner of Tundratown. Just most of them.

None have come by here, though. Blue stands and makes eye contact — a big no no, according to suburban housewives, but really they just wanna be treated like people. Or so he assumes.

The polar bear waves, smiling slightly.

Blue exhales some of the air he’s been trapping in his lungs. He’s made the right move. Or at least, he isn’t gonna die within the next few minutes. He gives the bear apologetic eyes and gestures to the sign hung on the window. The one saying CLOSED in all caps, with red letters. The one that the bear definitely read but is ignoring in favor of looking at him and _wow_ he’s really handsome.

The clock reads 2:00 AM. Blue stares at it, switching back and forth between the clock and the bear waiting patiently outside. He’s not too worried about the cold — polar bears have layers for that, right? The guy probably isn’t dying of hypothermia or anything.

Two choices: Let him in, or don’t. He shouldn’t let the bear in for three reasons: he might rob the place, he’s definitely a criminal, and he’s a complete stranger.

But the bear’s giving him those eyes…

Okay. Fine. Whatever. Who cares? The reindeer finds his coat (elegantly thrown onto the floor by the cashier) and suits up. He’s decided to crack the door open a little and get the polar bear’s side of the story. If all goes well, he’ll be a nice traveller looking for a place to warm up. Someone like that would require like, zero moral reflection in order to let in. And that would be nice.

As confidently as he can, he struts up to the glass door and unlocks it. The polar bear smiles down at him, and as Blue opens the door the bear’s nervous giggle gets louder and louder.

“Can I help you?” says Blue. “You see the sign, don’t you?”

“I do,” the bear says. He has a slight accent, but it’s a husk of what it used to be. It’s probably been washed away by schooling and assimilation. He smiles apologetically at Blue, rocking back and forth on his feet anxiously. “But it’s awfully cold and I’m a long way from home. Don’t take this the wrong way — I’ve been watching you for the past few minutes and you’re not actually working, are you?”

Indignation rises in Blue, but he deflates (physically and emotionally) as soon as he realizes that he’s been caught. “No, I’m not. Please don’t tell my boss.”

“I won’t. Can I please warm by your fire? It looks like exactly what I need right now.”

“Uh,” Blue looks away, looking into himself to find the strength to turn this polar bear away. “Well…”

“Please? I’m sure that your boss won’t mind, and if you get in trouble you can just say that I was robbing you.”

“ _Are_ you going to rob me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Blue’s hooves fumble with the door handle before they can pull it open, but before he does so he stops and glares at the polar bear. “Are you _sure_?”

“Yes. Yes! Please let me in.”

“Okay,” he sighs, and opens the door for the ursine to stroll in.

True to his word, the fluffy giant saunters to the fireplace and sits down, hugging himself by the dancing flames.

As Blue locks the door back up, the only things to be heard are the crackling of the wood and the polar bear’s muffled shivers. He finds that he’s almost scared to look back. What if he made the wrong call? He’d get robbed and the place would get robbed and he’d lose his job.

But if all those things are true, he’s already waited too long. Heart feeling like it’s in a chokehold, he swings around, and he nearly drops to the floor when he sees what’s happening by the fire.

By the auburn glow sits the polar bear, and he doesn’t have his gun out. He’s sleeping soundly.

Blue eyes the booth he was residing in previously. His dumb sleep schedule’s gonna be really messed up because of this stunt, but it’s gonna be worth it. Hopefully. He slinks back to the break room and pours a little coffee for himself, mixing in a little bit of hot chocolate powder for some sweetness — a couple of sugar cubes too, for good measure — and sits down beside the bear.

He stares at the sleeping predator, wondering what scenario could have stranded him out in the cold like this. If he didn’t know about the storm tonight, there’s a chance that he’s a visitor. Like Blue, except for a lot shorter of a time. Maybe they have something in common.

“I should have mentioned that there’s only an hour and a half left before my supervisor knows what’s up,” the reindeer says. He takes a sip of his coffee — still too hot. “But I guess you’ll find that out soon.”

The bear mumbles something. Blue resists the urge to lean in so he can get a better look. Instead, he pulls out his phone and connects to the wi-fi. Immediately, two notifications pop up: Another text from Mom, and a message on Messenger. He already knows what his mother’s texted. He opens up the message. It’s not often that he gets those.

A window opens, along with a name and a face that he isn’t too surprised to see. Casey, a peppy co-worker, has sent him a couple of messages along the lines of “You should come over to our party tomorrow!” and “Everyone wants you there!”. Blue doesn’t believe it. Not out of paranoia, but out of logic. He’s listened to Casey talk trash about the other bussers before and he doesn’t doubt for a second that this is some sort of joke.

But if this is a joke, there’s a chance to ruin it and actually impress some people.

Blue’s snout scrunches up defensively. So begins the war on himself. One side for staying focused on the job and the other side giving into loneliness and hardship.

“Hi,” a voice rasps happily from beside him.

He nearly jumps before he sees that it’s just the bear. The handsome bear. The criminal bear that’s been looking into his phone. His face scrunches up — matching his snout — and he gives the bear a glare. “Have a nice nap? How long have you been awake?”

The bear smiles. “I’m Cain.”

“What,” Blue asks, lightening up. “Like, Candy Cane?”

His composure falters for a moment. Internally, he starts collapsing. He’s fucking insane he should kick this guy out _right_ now he’s gonna get fired and die in the street—

“Sure?”

He breathes for a moment and calms down, neurotic brain already starting to patch itself up. He’s about to go on with the conversation, but…“Wait. You didn’t answer my question.”

Cain, as Blue knows him by now, blinks confusedly. He looks at Blue like he’s lost his marbles. “I did! No, hold on. The first one? Right. I’ve only been awake for a few minutes, which is both why my comprehension is so bad and why I know that you’re not from around here.”

Blue narrows his eyes again. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I was curious about my saviour! Coulda died or something out there, you know? Hypothermia kills. And frostbite.”

“Right,” the reindeer puts his phone down and puts his hooves on the ground, planning to scoot away but not actually following through. “And _how_ do you know I’m not from around here? I grew up in Sahara Central. Went to highschool there. My mom still lives there.”

“Because any pureblood, born and raised Zootopian that isn’t some bum hustler would have two thousand times the amount of texts you have popping up around Christmastime. Don’t worry about that though, it’s kinda overrated,” Cain explains, breath smelling of champagne. He smiles softly and gestures to Blue. “So?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Blue suddenly remembers his drink, and his eyes widen nervously as he offers it to the polar bear. “Want some? I didn’t make any for you because I figured—“

A paw interrupts him, along with a laugh that Blue decides he likes the sound of. “No, no! What’s your name, deer boy?”

“Oh!” he places a hand over his heart and manages to wrack up a polite smile. “It’s Blue. I’m Blue.”

“Blue, like the kind of Christmas I’ll be having without you?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Blue.”

His smile widens, and Cain cracks up into an equally wide and genuinely happy grin. Cain grabs his hoof — making his heart pulse a disgusting amount — and they shake amiably.

Blushing brightly, Blue blubbers brainlessly for a second before composing himself. “It’s nice to—“

A distant, thundering roar being powered out of the motors of a group of snow mobiles cuts into their introductions.

When Blue turns back from checking the door, Cain looks as pale as his fur can allow. The bear doesn’t give him a chance to ask if he’s okay. He’s clearly not okay. He stands up, and doesn’t waste any time in bombarding Blue with information. “Alright, so you seem really nice—“

“I guess—“

“You _seem really_ nice and I need to ask you a favor.”

The motors get closer. Cain’s looks to the back room. “I need to hide over there.”

Oh no. Oh, no no no no. Blue runs his hooftips across his head, feeling their vinyl-y surfaces slide down the curve of his skull. “You’re a criminal?”

“Look, don’t—“

“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna be killed.”

He feels warm paws grab his face. They turn him towards Cain’s scowling handsome face. “You are not going to die. I promise. Just tell them that you’re just chilling here and about to close up, and that you didn’t see me and have never seen me before. Ever.”

“Them?”

They both feel the vibrations coming from the vehicles under their feet. Cain leaves without another word. Blue’s stuck looking at the front door, as nervously as he was when he first came, and watched the plane touch ground in Zootopia International. He watches as five, maybe six snow mobiles drive to the front and park. He can’t make out who’s on them except for the single grizzly bear that hops off and struts towards the doors.

Act natural. Act natural and you won’t die. Blue pulls out his phone and hurriedly scrolls through his apps. In his haste, he opens up Messenger. He stares at the message from Casey, nearly sweating. If he’s going to die anyway, he might as well…right?

He types up a quick ‘sure’ and hits send just in time for an assertive knocking on the glass that makes him look up. Grizzly, as he’s named the bear in his head, stands menacingly in front, and gestures for Blue to come closer.

Blue stands up way too fast. He adjusts his coat and walks over to Grizzly, hoping that his instincts don’t take over and he doesn’t run as fast as he can in the other direction. He wonders why he didn’t feel this way around Cain. Maybe it was the looks. This Grizzly doesn’t look half as good as Cain does.

That, and she’s a girl.

She nods at him as he unlocks the doors like he did before. He cracks them open just enough for his head to poke through, and looks up at the furry colossus. “Hello, Miss. Can I help you?”

Grizzly nods again. “We’re looking for this bear,” She flashes him her phone, and on it is a picture of Cain smiling. Handsomely. “He stole from the wrong people. He ran off in the cold. In this direction. Have you seen him?”

“N-No, Miss.”

“Have you ever seen him?”

A shiver’s worked it’s way up Blue’s legs and it’s squeezing his shoulder blades something fierce. “W-Well maybe I’ve seen him around, I mean I live in the area—“

“Where?” Grizzly growls, beginning to lean in.

“I don’t know—“

“Are you sure, salt-lick? Because if you give me a reason to believe that you’re not being anything but a hundred percent truthful, well—“

“Yes, I’m sure!” Blue yells, and instantly his hooves cover his mouth.

Sneering, Grizzly slowly leans in, but someone in the group — the powder blowing around still makes it hard to see whoever’s lurking by the vehicles — calls something out. She’s cowed by this, and backs away, but not before giving the reindeer a final glare.

The gang drives away, surely in search for Cain.

Relief forces Blue to his knees, where he stays for a few minutes.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes and questions still run the course of his mind. How in the world did he survive that? Never before has he been so smooth with his words while under pressure. He usually has more than one slip up. Maybe it’s Cain. Pheromones can do wonders for making you do stupid things — and they can make you get away with them too, apparently.

“Cain? You can come out now.” No response. The ungulate gets up and locks the door as quick as he can. He starts walking towards the back room, stride speeding up more and more by the second. “Cain? Cain! Hey!”

He all but sprints into the back room, only to find the employee exit unlocked and open, and two things on the table that shock him out of his impending shock.

There’s a glossy white piece of paper, ripped from a magazine rack from the corner. “There’s more where this came from ;) You’ve earned it — also call me” and a phone number underneath are written messily across its surface.

Blue can hardly read the words and believe that they’re real.

Next to the paper, though, sits a pile of money. Not twenties. Not fifties. Wads of hundreds of bucks clumped up and looking like a rectangular cactus.

The reindeer slips a bill out from one of the wads and holds it up to the light. Real. Genuine. Not faked.

His rent is paid for the next year. Maybe more than that. He could buy a T.V. and a couch, and he could finally invite mammals over to his terrible apartment!

He gathers up the cash delicately, as if it might explode or disintegrate, and stuffs the wads into his pockets.

If he spends this wisely, he’s set.

He enters the number on his phone before throwing the piece of paper into the fire, and he sighs as he looks at the booth where he was sleeping half an hour or so before. The imprint that his weight made in the cushions has already faded, and as he kills the fireplace and clocks out, any other trace of him being here fades as well.

Just as he’s about to leave, Blue pulls his checks the time. 3 AM. Not too late. Not for polar bears, anyway. He names his new phone contact ‘Cain’ and almost puts it away before it buzzes in his hand. A message from Casey, telling him “great.”

And it is pretty great. It’s great that he aided a criminal in avoiding other criminals, and basically took overtime money out of his boss’s pockets, and decided to make plans to socialize with someone he barely even knows for a holiday he _hates_ because of the stereotyping of his species during it.

Blue’s heart goes into that familiar place where it feels like it might stop any second. He locks the restaurant up in haste, and as the lock clicks shut and the cold bite of the winter winds begins to nip at his fur, he has one thought on his mind:

“What did I just do?”


End file.
